


Resisting a Rest

by popatochisp



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Swapfell (Undertale), Boundaries, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Napping, Other, Sleepiness, Sleepy Cuddles, Swapfell Papyrus (Undertale), Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-18 07:29:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16990662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/popatochisp/pseuds/popatochisp
Summary: Your idiot skeleton just won't go to bed.You're gonna have to play hardball...or maybe soft-lap.





	Resisting a Rest

Your boyfriend was so  _stupid_.

You thought it with considerable affection, but it was no less true.

You watch Papyrus where he’s slumped against the arm of the couch, his head bobbing periodically as he falls most of the way asleep and then wakes himself up when gravity kicks in, only to start the cycle up all over again a few seconds later.

It was his own fault he was so tired. You’re not sure what the hell he expected, pounding three lattes after midnight because he was ‘inspired’ and had commissions piling up, but that was the brain of an artist for you.

… _lack_  of brain, literally.

Bonehead.

You keep telling yourself not to feel bad for him, but it’s not working as well as you’d like. He’s trying  _so hard_  to stay awake and he looks  _so exhausted_ , some part of your soul just can’t help but bloom with a weird combination of love and pity.

Papyrus was a bonehead alright, but he was  _your_  bonehead.

“Hey,” you say, and he jolts, whipping towards you with wide eye-sockets like he’d forgotten you were even there. “This is getting sad. Go to bed.”

Papyrus huffs, rubbing a hand against his face. “can’t,” he mutters, slurring tiredly. “sans’s s’posed to call…”

You look at the chunky old phone on the wall in the kitchen, a landline that Papyrus’ paranoid older brother insisted was more secure than a cell phone for sensitive information.

Having heard a little bit about life Underground and about the Royal Scientist who’d proven time and time again that she could hack damn near  _anything_ , you at least understand where Sans is coming from.

You can’t take a landline to bed with you, though, and Papyrus’ room is  _just_ far enough away from the kitchen that if the phone rang, he probably wouldn’t hear it.

You couldn’t think of anything scarier in the world than a pissed off Sans with reason to believe something had happened to his brother, not after that  _harrowing_  Shovel Talk you’d gotten when your thing with Papyrus had turned serious.

But there’s other options here, you can make this work.

“C’mere, then,” you say, patting your lap in invitation. “You nap, I’ll stay awake.”

It seems to take a minute for your words to penetrate his sleep-fogged skull. “……yeah? you’ll wake me up?”

A tall order, honestly, he slept like a rock, but, “Yeah, if he calls.”

Papyrus shifts, moving toward you on instinct only to hesitate. “…you sure?”

You’re Papyrus’ first  _relationship_ -relationship, his first thing beyond a one-night-stand and he’s still pussyfooting around and figuring out the differences.

The fact that you  _want_  him to get cuddly sometimes always seems to throw him for a loop, that he’s allowed to touch you even when sex isn’t happening and that  _doesn’t_  bug you or make you want him to go away.

It’s cute as hell but you know he’s self-conscious about it, so you just smirk at him. “What, is my lap not good enough for you?” you challenge. “Mister Fancybones needs the finest goose down stuffing and a thousand plus thread count in his pillows to fall asleep?”

That gets Papyrus snickering, flopping unceremoniously into your lap and curling around you as much as he can like the lankiest, most overgrown cat in the world.

“m’a simple skeleton,” he says. “you’ll do, i guess.”

“Oh, thank you  _ever_ so much.”

Your tone is sarcastic, but your hands are gentle as you pet along the curve of Papyrus’ skull. Just being horizontal seems to have sapped him of any desire or ability to stay awake and he’s fast going limp where he’s draped himself across you, his eye-sockets falling shut.

“Sweet dreams, Rus,” you murmur.

You don’t think he hears you, though—he’s out like a light and already starting to snore.

The bonehead…

_Your_  bonehead.

**Author's Note:**

> Posting some drabbles of mine separately just because! Originally from my collection, Bag of Bones, where this and the rest of my drabbles so far can be found.
> 
> Like everyone and their grandmother, I have my own version of the Swapfell AU in my head so here's a quick and dirty cheat-sheet based on the three most popular versions: aesthetics of SF Purple/SF Gold, personalities of SF Gold/SF Red.
> 
> Thanks for reading! :)


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